Silence in it's Loudest Form
by hpbebekthx
Summary: Draco hasn't spoken since he was three. Now he's recieved his Hogwarts letter and run away. Better than it sounds (hopefully) AU and beta-ed by the lovely Mystic-Sorceress(I know I spelt that wrong)
1. Chapter One

"Good morning Draco" The lady in front of him asked in a coaxing voice. He nodded in response, staring absently out the window.

"How has your week been?" she tried. He simply shrugged, then sat down in a near by chair. 

"You know," She said, her voice not as sweet as it had been, "Your father pays a great deal of money for me to talk to you, you could at least talk back." He regarded her with blank eyes. These sessions gave him a small amount of comfort, but only from their regularity. 

"Alright, play your little game, I have work to do." With that she got up and started opening and closing drawers with more strength than necessary, muttering about wastes of time. 

So she thought he was playing a game did she? Well, shows how much she knows. His own parents wouldn't even have noticed had one of the house elves come to them. He sighed heavily, then started walking around, examining all the pictures and diplomas that were mounted on the walls. Here she was graduating, and here she was getting married, and here she was holding a baby, presumably hers. Over on the wall opposite were cute pictures of babies dressed up like peas and puppies and kittens sleeping next to each other. 

The walls were a depressing grey colour, and the window shades were covered in dust. They didn't look like they had ever been opened before, and for experiments sake he walked over and pulled the cord. This proved to be a very bad idea, because moving things with dust on them often leads to large clouds of the stuff. 

A few minutes later Draco found himself sitting in the waiting room, receiving very strange looks from the lady sitting across form him. He desperately wanted to yell something obscene at her, but that would ruin everything he had worked for. He had devoted his whole life to this. Well, that was actually a recent realization. It had started out as pure shyness, then had become a sort of self dare. An hour, a day, a week, a month, a year. Now he was afraid to go back. That was also a new discovery. His father was here. He got several disapproving remarks about the state of his clothes, and then he was dragged home. 


	2. Chapter Two

He had received his Hogwarts letter that morning. It was written in green ink on yellowing parchment, and the seal was bright red. It had been laying on his desk that morning and was one of the first things he saw. He had liked it, and decided he wouldn't open it. Instead he walked down to breakfast.

Breakfast was a very solemn affair, as were all meals in the Malfoy Manor. He sat up unnaturally straight while his father was in the room, and when he stormed out, he relaxed slightly, but not so much that he looked like he was slouching. A house elf tottled in, handing his mother his letter. his letter I had resolved not to open because a) it was nice looking the way it was, and b) he didn't really want to go to Hogwarts. Now mother would open it up and he would have to go and that would ruin everything.

He abandoned his eggs and was about to leave the room when his mother raised her hand. She had long ago decided that since Draco was silent he must also be stupid and had certain signs to indicate what she wanted down. A raised hand meant "move an inch and I will kill you with my eyes". As least that's how he interpreted it. He stopped moving, staring at her nonchalantly.

"Draco, when did you receive this?" She said coldly, lowering her hand. He had half a mind to run then, but instead made a complex hand gesture he meant to be read as "This morning, only I hate you so I thought I would keep it to myself". Unfortunately this is not how it was interpreted, and Narcissa, after raising one eyebrow thoughtfully, opened the letter and read it out. He started inspecting the ceiling, or where he knew the ceiling would be if it wasn't so high.

"I must go inform your father of this." She said, then swept out of the room. Draco deflated, both physically and mentally. Now he'd have to go. Blasted parents. He had to go out. He walked briskly to his room, and after a few minutes of searching found what he was looking for. A pair of muggle clothes, a hat, warm jacket and combat boots. He carefully walked out of the house, only looking back once. Then he ran. He ran as far as he could, until he was out of breath.

He didn't know where he was now, but it seemed like a muggle town, the cars zooming in every direction. He walked slowly through the streets, catching bits of speech here and there. A group a teenagers, probably only a few years older than him, were standing in front of a store, singing and dancing. As he got closer he heard one of them feign a low voice.

"It's just a jump to the left" She said, and all of them made a small jump to the left.

"And a step to the right!" Two other girls called out, holding the "i". In answer they all jumped hitting some passer-bys, then most of them collapsed in giggles. Draco continued walking. They didn't interest him that much. A man across the street was standing on a box, yelling loudly to people who were completely ignoring him. This didn't interest him either, so he continued walking. A family was walking past him, the father holding the young child's hand. Draco didn't understand that. Why would he hold it's hand? Couldn't it keep up? He brushed past them as well. This wasn't half as fun as he'd thought it would be.

He started walking back, and the teenagers and their song were gone. The old man was starting to lose his vigour and the sun was setting. He was hungry, and his feet were hurting. Maybe he could sit down for a few minutes. Once sitting down he very much doubted whether or not he would get up, he was very tired having run the whole way down here. He laid down, the metal bench very uncomfortable and cold. Slowly he fell asleep, watching people rush by, oblivious to the eleven year old boy shivering to himself.


	3. Chapter 3

When he woke up there were to things that jumped out at him. One, it was extremely dark out. Two, he was very cold. He was much more concerned with two, because Malfoy manor is always dark-his father likes it that way-but it was always warm. Sitting up his joints all objected loudly, creaking and popping. That couldn't be to good, but after a few more pops he felt much better. He was also quite hungry. His last meal had been breakfast, and that had been a long time ago. Or at least it felt like a long time ago.

He started walking, not seeing any sign that these streets had been full of life when he had last seen them save for a few empty food packets. Even the street lights had gone off. He wondered, vaguely, if this was what Hogwarts would be like. Jumping with life that over passes him, and them when he's finally ready for it, it's gone to bed and taking the light with it. He rather fancied it was.

That was one of his problems. He _enjoyed _the idea that the world was against him. It gave him some idea that he knew what was going on around him, even if just slightly. What was going on was the world was conspiring against him. It gave him something to live for, because if the entire human populance didn't want him there then dammit, he was going to be there. And that scared him. It scared him so much because that arrogance reminded him of his father.

He didn't want to be that. His father was the reason he hadn't spoken since he was three. He didn't ever want to be what drove his kids to that. Assuming, of course, that he ever had children, which he doubted he would, considering.

Enough thinking like that. He needed warmth and food. Either or, but preferably both. There was a light up ahead, a florescent one. He saw the word "exotic" on the sign and knew he wouldn't be allowed in there. He kept walking, not giving the grungy pub a glance. He hadn't thought ahead. All his money was in galleons, and it's not like he could just go to Gringotts and convert them. So he had no money. To bad it was the end of summer, there was always some free food around the end of July, people taking full advantage of the warm weather. He had come down here before, but he had always know he was going home after. He hadn't planned on staying here this time. But now he knew he would do everything in his power to stop anything making him go home.

He didn't want to stay here. He slowly started walking in the opposite direction, past the pub again. He could find another muggle town, one where someone would feed a hungry boy and give him a place to rest his head. Yeah, a place like that would be good. Except the only place that he had ever heard of like that was heaven. He had heard the man standing on his box telling about all it's glories. From what he said it took to get there, he very much doubted he would ever get to know what "True Peace" felt like. Enough with the self pity. He wanted food. And he'd have to walk for it.

A few hours later, the sun was just starting to peak over the hills, tinting the sky a pale pink. He could see the town a long way back, but he had decided that they weren't likely to feed him, and that if he kept moving it was less likely that anyone would find him and bring him home. Something in the bushes rustled, and he stopped, suddenly alert. A small bird hopped out onto the street, and Draco sighed. He continued walking, but now his pace was a bit quicker than he intended it to be. Stupid bird.

Something very large and very wet hit him on the head. A few more came down. Great, it was raining. Perfect. Huge drops fell quickly, and soon he was soaked through. Trudging on he couldn't help but fall into fits of silent laughter at how stupid he must look, walking down a completely deserted road, looking for all the world like he had just decided to take a swim in full clothing. This was all the birds fault. He knew it.


End file.
